Portraits
by TheForsakenShadow
Summary: What happens when Albus Severus Potter meets the portraits of his namesakes?


**Disclaimer: I do not own.**

**This one has been done to death, but I thought I'd have a shot at it anyway, since I've been on a next-gen high for the past few days. Terrible ending, though.**

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><p>Eleven-year-old Albus Potter sat in the chair opposite the Headmistress' desk alongside cousin Rose Weasley. There was a hushed silence between the two first years; neither of them had ever been inside Professor McGonagall's office before. Naturally, both were scared and shot terrified looks at each other every now and then. The Professor herself, however, was not to be seen. Al occupied himself by examining each of the portraits in turn that lined the circular walls. All their occupants were asleep- or so they seemed to be, for Al knew from some of the unnaturally loud snores that a few were listening to every word being spoken.<p>

"If Mum sends me a Howler, I'm going to hold you responsible," Rose hissed. After all, it was not often that you would find Rose Weasley, star pupil of the year and astonishingly brainy for her age, sent to the Headmistress for causing trouble. Still, Al himself was not one to be mischievous, unlike his brother James.

He did not respond, still watching the portraits. A particularly nasty looking man with a pointed black beard and thin eyebrows caught his eye. Al recognized him at once as the man in one of the portraits put up at home- he hardly occupied his frame there, however, something which Al was thoroughly grateful for. During the rare occasions Phineas Nigellus visited his portrait in Number 12, Grimmauld Place, he rarely had anything to spare but snide remarks about how noisy the Potter children were and that in his time, such children received a good spanking. His father refused to take down his portrait, however, as he was often needed to deliver messages from the Headmistress.

He shifted his gaze to a portrait a few feet below Professor Black's. This portrait, too, he recognized immediately. Al didn't need to read the golden name plate below the picture to know that this was his namesake, Albus Dumbledore. His father talked about him very often at home, and from what Al knew about him from the Chocolate Frog cards, he was the greatest wizard of all time and was immensely proud to share his name.

The door behind them burst open, and in walked Headmistress McGonagall looking rather flustered, followed by a raging Professor Griffiths. McGonagall slammed the door shut behind them and walked up the circular steps to the raised platform on which her desk and the two children awaited. Seating herself in her chair, she waved her wand and drew up another from thin air and motioned for Professor Griffiths to sit; he did. McGonagall placed her clasped hands on the desk and gave them one of her most menacing glares – Al was surprised not to see steam coming out through her ears.

"Explain," she snapped.

"Professor, it wasn't us, I swear-"

"It was Kevin's work-"

"We had nothing to do with it-"

"He decided to be a prat and make it look like it was us-"

"We were just minding our own business-"

"_I'll _tell you what happened!" snapped Professor Griffiths over the babble of hurried explanations from the students. "This boy," he pointed at Al, "thought it an excellent idea to disrupt my Potions lesson by dropping stink pellets right in the centre of the classroom! And his cousin here," he pointed at Rose, "Rhonda-"

"Rose," she corrected.

"Yes, that- this girl found that it would be highly amusing to assist him by leaving exploding chalk on my desk for me to use!"

"Is this true?" McGonagall barked at them.

"No, Professor, it wasn't us!" said Rose.

"I'm sure," spat Professor Griffiths, whose large belly seemed to be swelling up in rage as his giant moustache quivered.

"It's the truth! It was Kevin from Ravenclaw who started it-"

"My my, is this another Potter?" said a cold voice from behind McGonagall. She turned sharply to a painting right next to Professor Dumbledore's. The man had black, greasy hair that curtained his face and cold, grey eyes that made him look even more menacing than he sounded.

"Just like his father. Rude, troublesome, and quick to blame others."

"I'm not lying, I swear!" said Al rather angrily. Who was he to judge him?

"Indeed," he said, a smirk playing on his thin lips. He gazed down upon him with a calculating expression. "Back answering too…it must be a family trait. Your brother does it all the time."

"Thank you, Severus," said McGonagall firmly.

"What?" Al's eyes shot towards the name plate below the man's portrait. His mouth formed a small 'o' at what he saw.

'_Severus Snape  
>1997-1998'<em>

"Now," continued McGonagall, "I am to gather that Kevin Davies is responsible for the commotion in Professor Griffith's class. Where is the proof of this?"

"You can ask anyone, Professor! Graham, Tracey, Stewart, Olivia- they all saw him do it!" said Rose.

McGonagall shoved her glasses further up her nose. Breathing heavily, she said, "Very well. Professor Griffiths and myself will go down to the dungeons to investigate immediately. Miss Weasley, kindly accompany us. Potter, you stay here and await our return."

With that, she stood up and left the room, followed by Rose and Professor Griffiths. The door slammed shut, and Al found himself alone in the room with the portraits of the headmasters of Hogwarts, all of which still appeared to be asleep, with the exception of Severus Snape, who was still sneering down at him. Al wondered whether he should talk to him, tell him what his name was, ask him what he had done that made his father speak of him with such high regard…but his Gryffindor courage failed him. He felt with a pang, not for the first time, that he did not belong in Gryffindor with James and Rose.

"Uncharacteristically quiet today, are we?" said Severus. "I expect with your brother being the way he is, you would be no different. Let me make it known that your silence does nothing but a service to mankind."

Al opened his mouth to retort, but closed it again, choosing to ignore him. It wouldn't do well to back talk the man his father looked up to. Then again, he didn't see what was so special about him anyway. What could have possibly made his father thick enough to name him after _this_ man? Burying his face in his hands, he made a mental note to demand a name change as soon as he was home for Christmas.

"Heavens, Severus," said a much softer, kinder voice from somewhere nearby. He looked up to see none other than Albus Dumbledore speaking from the frame directly behind McGonagall's chair. "It would do you good to be a little more polite."

"Were you not watching his atrocious display of behaviour five minutes ago in this very room?" snapped Severus. "His attitude is an unfortunate replica of his father's."

"Not quite," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Have you asked the boy his name?"

Severus looked down at him with the same menacing gaze. Al opened his mouth and stayed silent for a moment before responding shyly, "Albus Severus Potter, sir."

Severus stared at him, his mouth agape. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even more with what looked like tears forming in his eyes. Albus summoned some more courage and continued, "My dad says you were the bravest man he'd ever known, sir."

Severus' mouth opened and closed repeatedly with no sound coming out. He looked rather like a large fish.

"You see, Severus?" said Dumbledore. "He has his father's eyes."

"Lily," said Snape under his breath. He stared down at Al for a moment, directly into his eyes. Then, without another word, he turned around and marched right out of his portrait, disappearing into the frame.

"Wait- what?" said Al, somewhat taken aback.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Certainly not unexpected, I should say."

Al shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned sheepishly up at the old Headmaster. Maybe being Albus Severus wasn't so bad after all.

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><p><strong>Forgive me- that was a horrible finish. Criticism much appreciated! <strong>


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